Jill died on Christmas Day.
We wondered, sadly, as we ate our sandwich lunch at the lagoon, if it would be her last day.
So now she sleeps in the dreamless sleep of death. But there is hope because "a hiding place is the God of ancient time, and underneath are the everlasting arms."
Everlasting arms don't go away. They don't fail to catch and hold. So I am sure she remains in Jehovah's memory, every hair of her head numbered. And when the time comes for the resurrection she will wake up on an earth ruled by the law of loving-kindness - an earth ruled by the Kingdom of God, with Jesus as its King.
Maybe she will wake up in her own beautiful rambling garden - with life "to time indefinite" ahead of her.
Jehovah looks for the gold in us, the goodness, the valuable things. And surely there was plenty of gold in Jill.
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